


Initium Incipere

by tucker529



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:43:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucker529/pseuds/tucker529
Summary: When Tristan DuGray is pulled from Chilton, his chances with Rory Gilmore are destroyed, all the progress that they had made collapsed in the few moments that they had left. But when Rory returns from Europe, her mind is flooded with one man.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I likely do not own. Although I do on occasion toy with storylines and characters, I will give credit where credit is due.  
> Michaelover101 has contributed ideas throughout this story, and many others, but has not done any direct writing for it.  
> There are direct quotes from the episode Run Away, Little Boy (Season 2, episode 9) and Those are Strings, Pinocchio (Season 3, episode 22)

Rory closed her eyes and sighed, struggling to remember a time where she wasn’t involved in the town of Star’s Hollow and all of the crazy events that Taylor had thought up. She struggled for a moment before deciding to give up and just accept the fact that she would always be under Taylor’s wing like the rest of the town always would be under his control when it came to town matters, except for a few select times.

Smiling, for a moment she thought about her graduation and whom she had thought that she saw in the crowd for a moment while she was giving her valedictorian speech.

~

_“Headmaster Charleston, faculty members, fellow students, family and friends, welcome. We never thought this day would come. We prayed for its quick delivery, crossed days off our calendars, counted hours, minutes and seconds and now that it’s here, I’m sorry it is; because it means leaving friends who inspire me and teachers who’ve been my mentors, so many people who’ve shaped my life, and my fellow students lives' impermeably and forever,” Rory paused for a moment, before looking out towards her mother, and continuing._

_“I live in two worlds. One is a world of books. I’ve been a resident of Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County, hunted the white whale aboard the Pequod, fought alongside Napoleon, sailed a raft with Huck and Jim, committed absurdities with Ignatius J. Reilly, rode a sad train with Anna Karenina and strolled down Swann’s way. It’s a rewarding world, but my second one is by far superior. My second one is populated with characters slightly less eccentric, but supremely real, made of flesh and bone, full of love, who are my ultimate inspiration for everything. Richard and Emily Gilmore are kind, decent, unfailingly generous people. They are my twin pillars, without whom I could not stand. I am proud to be their grandchild. But my ultimate inspiration comes from my best friend, the dazzling woman from whom I received my name and my life’s blood, Lorelai Gilmore,” Rory focused her eyes in on her grandparents and mother for a moment before she continued._

_“My mother never gave me any idea that I couldn’t do whatever I wanted to do or be whomever I wanted to be. She filled our house with love and fun and books and music unflagging in her efforts to give me role models from Jane Austen to Eudora Welty to Patti Smith. As she guided me through these incredible eighteen years, I don’t know if she ever realized that the person I most wanted to be was her.” Rory paused for a moment, trying to grasp at her last bit of sanity and control to finish her speech. Glancing over the crowd to gage their reactions compared to her family and friends, in her classmates there was admiration and slight annoyance that the ceremony wasn’t going faster, and in the rest of the crowd, the emotions on their faces ranged around everything. Her voice caught in her throat when she saw a blonde head of hair that looked almost exactly like Tristan DuGray’s always had. She allowed her gaze to scan the face and was stunned when the realization hit her that it was likely the young man that she had proclaimed to hate._

_Closing her eyes quickly, she refocused on finishing her speech and continued._

~

After Taylor had sprung on her that she was the “Ice Cream Queen”, and then she found out that she was about to be late for arriving at Yale, she’d forgotten about the possibility that Tristan had come to Chilton’s graduation. And now she was leaving for Yale in a matter of hours, far away from anything that could remind her of Tristan.

She smiled at her mother’s antics as she sat at Luke’s. She quietly explained to Luke that her mother had been unable to get the truck out of reverse, so she had to back it all the way to the diner. As she watched Luke run out to her mother, she told Caesar her order quickly and asked for it to go, nodding at him when he congratulated her on the whole Yale thing.

Rory paused for a moment, looking around the diner and out the windows, quietly settling in to observe the town when there was a large crash in the kitchen and she jumped. “It’s okay, everything’s okay. No telling Luke,” Caesar’s voice suddenly came out of the kitchen, panicked and stressed, causing Rory’s to giggle and throw a glance back in the direction of his voice. She watched as her mother complained and Luke “magically” fixed the truck and made it start to go forward.

She quickly closed her eyes, attempting to force the memory to stick into her mind for her to bring up later that night when the homesickness set in once the nervousness wore off. As she closed her eyes, a flash of a memory went through her mind so quickly she couldn’t quite identify what it was. Before she had a chance to figure out what it was, she heard the door clatter open and a little bell ring and her mother and Luke’s voices float into the diner, causing her to smile and push the thoughts out of her mind.

~

Rory sat on her bed the next day, glancing around the room that now had her and Paris’ belongings and “decorative touches” on every inch. Sighing, she let herself fall against her bed, feeling her form sink into it before closing her eyes and letting her mind wander to the memory that had flashed into her mind for a moment while she was at Luke’s. 

_“I knew he was going to do this, but no one wanted to listen to me. It was all 'Let’s make Tristan Romeo, he’s hot.'” Paris began to rant to Rory, frustrated that Tristan had yet to show up to get ready for the play._

_Rory sighed, trying to calm Paris down for a moment, “What about Brad?” she said tentatively._

_“Brad transferred schools,” she said, as though everyone had the inside connections that she’d managed to attain in her years at Chilton. Paris spotted Tristan walking up towards them and quickly pounced on him. “Where have you been? You have to get dressed, we’re on in ten minutes,” she said, flying her arms around, pointing in the direction of where their costumes were stored._

_“Can’t,” he said simply._

_“What?”_

_“Actually, my dad had me pulled out of school. He…” Paris suddenly stormed away, cutting Tristan off, “And is she unhappy.”_

_“What do you mean he had you pulled out of school? What happened?” she said quickly, trying to make an attempt to show him that she cared about him and what happened to him._

_“Nothing. Just ticked the old man off, that’s all,” Tristan said, trying to appease Rory, but failing as she started a new round of guilting him into telling her._

_“By doing what? Tristan come on, tell me,” she coaxed lightly._

_“I got into some trouble,” he said, still unwilling to tell her what he’d done, fearing that he’d ruin what little progress that they’d made over the past months._

_“Trouble involving…?” she pried more._

_“Involving Duncan and Bowman, and Bowman’s dad’s safe.”_

_“Oh no.”_

_“I mean, Bowman had a key. It was supposed to be no big deal. And the crazy silent alarm kicked in.”_

_“You broke into Bowman’s dad’s safe?” Rory said, disbelievingly._

_“Yes.”_

_“Stupid.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Well, okay, you can apologize and you can put back the money and you can explain that, I don’t know, you were going through something,” she said, trying to find something that would keep him around and in her life._

_“I was, I was going through his safe,” Tristan said, the sound in his voice deflating._

_“Why would you do this?”_

_“I don’t know. I guess that’s something I can ponder at military school,” he said, giving in and letting his last shred of self-respect fall away._

_“Military school?” she said, stunned that his parents were taking it that far and making him leave the state, let alone Hartford._

_“The police are letting our parents handle it, and in my case that means military school in North Carolina,” he said, a sad tone taking over every other emotion._

_“I don’t know what to say.”_

_“Well, I imagine you’re overwhelmed with the relief in knowing that soon I will be gone.”_

_“I’m so sorry,” she said, trying to convince him that she never really wanted him to leave, let alone be completely out of her life._

_“Well, I’m a big boy. I can handle it,” Tristan said, snagging the last shred of dignity that could be grabbed._

_“There’s nothing you can…”_

_“Tristan, come on,” Tristan’s dad suddenly yelled down the hall._

_“I gotta go. So, I might kiss you goodbye but, uh, your boyfriend’s watching. Take care of yourself, Mary,” he said before turning away, giving her one last look that left her speechless as Paris ran towards her._

~

Rory closed her eyes, and let a tear run down her face for a moment before quickly wiping it away, thinking about what would have happened if Dean wasn’t stand there, watching her all the time. She knew where it would have led, especially if she let it lead to where she had secretly wanted it to for quite a while at that point. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rory pleaded with her mind to let Tristan go. She hadn’t thought of him while she was in Europe, and she had already her bad boy, the last thing that she needed was to have another huge mistake like Jess turned out to be.

Sighing, she decided against mentioning Tristan to Paris. After all, she was happy with Jamie, and she didn’t want to ruin their happiness by bringing up an old long-time crush of Paris’s just because Rory was having confusing thoughts about him once again. She had to admit though, she and Tristan had undeniable chemistry, that was probably what Dean had been threatened by the whole time that they went out and Tristan and Jess were around; he considered them competition. 

Letting her eyes slowly open, she stared at her new ceiling, wondering whether or not she would have been so infatuated with Jess if Tristan had stayed around. If her infatuation would have been put onto Tristan like it had… no, she hadn’t even had any _feeling_ for Tristan other than concern and friendship. Just like that kiss had meant nothing to either of them, just a little post-break-up confusion that had thrown both of them for a loop.

It really had meant nothing. That spark that had shocked her and made her realize that she was stupid for dating Dean, that was nothing, nothing at all.


	2. Chapter Two

Tristan DuGray’s eyes focused in on the “ _Welcome to New Haven_ ” sign that was lit up with small lights hanging above it; yawning, he followed the signs towards Yale, slowing the blue Chevy Impala down to a stop, closing his eyes for a moment while he waited for the light to turn green, flipping them open every few moments to make sure that he didn’t miss the light.

_Harvard University_.

He squeezed his eyes shut as Rory Gilmore’s face flashed in the front of his mind; it had taken him months to come to an agreement with his grandfather, and in those months, they had struck a bargain: Janlen Dugray would pay for Tristan’s schooling, as long as it was at Yale University. Tristan kept his eyes closed, struggling to keep his irritation and anger under control, he had struggled for months to attempt to get his grandfather to let him go to Harvard University in Boston, but as a Yale legacy, he was expected to attend Yale.

In the end, the hope of attending Harvard to pursue a medical degree in the top medical school in the nation, along with having the ability to find Rory Gilmore, slipped through his fingers and fell out of his mind. Yale as an undergrad, and Harvard at a graduate student, pursuing what he wanted, even if it meant pissing off the father that he so desired to please. Tristan yawned again, taking one hand off the steering wheel and stretching for a moment before continuing on his way down the street, speeding slightly, hoping to climb into his bed as soon as he could. His grandfather had arranged for all of his belongings to be in his dorm and the bed to at least be made.

Janlen had offered to acquire his grandson a plane ticket, and arrange to have his 1967 Chevrolet Impala shipped up to him, but Tristan had refused, stating that the car meant too much to him to allow someone else to drive it. His car. Tristan smiled at the thought that the car was his, and only his, before sliding his hand and part of his arm out of the car and lightly allowing his fingers to touch the roof of the car. After his grandfather had revealed that he would buy him a car once he graduated, Tristan did some looking around and eventually found a car that reminded him of Rory Gilmore’s eyes and had instantly fell in love with it.

The Gilmore eyes, it was the one thing that had always been his downfall when it came to Rory, the bright blue eyes that consumed her appearance and drew in anyone that was around her, especially the men that were in her presence. From the rumblings that he heard while he was still in Hartford, she inherited that from her mother, the eyes and the quick wit. Closing his eyes for a moment, he struggled to remember what she looked like but the only thing that still was willing to shine through his memory was her eyes, _those_ eyes. 

Turning left, he pulled into his assigned parking lot, swinging into an open parking spot, resting his head against the headrest for a moment, he closed his eyes, sighing for a moment, he reached into the backseat and pulled out his military duffle out of the back, struggling as it got caught between the seats, sighing he allowed the bag to drop onto the floor of the car as he climbed out, reaching for the latch to release the seat to retrieve his duffle.

Grasping the strap over his shoulder, Tristan trudged towards his dorm room, his other hand in his pocket, gripping the key that would shove him into his new life, a life where he would eventually be forced to forget that brown haired, blue eyed woman that he once knew. Tugging on the bag that was pulling his shoulder down, Tristan reached into his back pocket and pulled a small slip of paper out, listing his residence hall, floor, and room number: Bradley Hall: Floor Two: Room 213.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he mentally pictured the campus from where he was, letting his eyes slowly open, he looked ahead, starting towards the path that would lead him to what would be known as a side attraction for hell designed by none other than his father, Joseph Dugray.

After unlocking the door to his new room, he looked around in the darkness, before walking over to the only room that still had a small post-it note on it with the letter TD listed in neat handwriting. Walking in, he set his duffle bag down and quickly dug through it, grasping for his pillow before pulling it out and tossing it on the bead near the head. Throwing himself back onto his bed, he looked around what little of the room he could see, wondering how his father had managed to get him his own room, and whether or not the person he was sharing with also had his own room, or someone else slept there too. Closing his eyes for a moment, he turned onto his side and inhaled the light scent of shampoo and laundry detergent that lingered on his pillow.

Wrapping his arms around his pillow and burying his face into it, Tristan sighed and quickly shoved Rory Gilmore’s face out of his mind before drifting off into a fitful nights sleep.

~

Tristan stirred the next morning, shifting his weight from one shoulder to another while sighing into his pillow before burrowing further in and then pushing his torso up off of the bed, the blankets falling back against his legs as he fell over onto his back, stretching for a moment before pulling his cell phone off of the nightstand and glancing at the screen, watching as it flashed 5:32AM on the small screen. Groaning, Tristan threw the blankets off of him, walking over to his duffle bag while pulling a shirt over his head, quickly stretching his back muscles as he did. Bending over, he gripped the strap of his bag and lifted it up, dumping the contents onto his bed. Shuffling threw the notebooks filled with writings and books ranging from Jane Austen to Shakespeare to Chuck Palahniuk, attempting to find a clean shirt out of the few that he brought with him. Pulling a bright green t-shirt out of the pile, Tristan slid it on over his head, turning around to find the pants he’d slipped of before he’d collapsed on the bed.

Pulling his pants over his legs, he settled them around his hips, the shirt settling just above his ass. Picking his cell phone up off of the nightstand, quickly sliding it into his back pocket before moving his arms upward in the air to stretch, closing his eyes as he stretched, he let a small yawn escape from his mouth before walking over to one of the stacks of boxes, staring at the labels for a few moments before lifting two and setting them down on the ground and ripping the third box open, pulling out a dark blue sweatshirt with the word ‘Yale’ printed on the front. Slipping it over his head, Tristan walked out the door, being careful to stay quiet while guessing that his roommate, or roommates, was likely still asleep.

Once he clicked the door shut, and made sure that it was locked behind him, Tristan leaned down, tying the knots of his shoe laces tightly in order to keep them from unraveling while he ran around the school, keeping the same schedule that he had begun in the beginning of military school. Taking a deep breath, he walked onto a small pathway, one obviously rarely travelled, smiling as he felt the cool air begin to seep through his sweatshirt, a chill running down his spine as his body temperature began to drop. Pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to cover the palms of his hands, warming the chilled skin before he picked his feet up, letting the guide him down the dirt covered path, allowing his mouth to open and take in the fresh air as he blood began to pound in anticipation of the quickening pace.

Tristan’s jogging habit had begun to take form in his freshman year of high school as a way of keeping in shape for the female population of Chilton Preparatory, a habit that had faded at the beginning of junior year when the year ushered in a new friendship with Duncan and Bowman, the two guys that would eventually be his ruin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tristan quickly speed up, his eyes beginning to water as he strained his legs to their limit. Continuing on his way past Durfee with his mind focused solely on the beat of his feet hitting against the cement, the strumming of his sleeves hitting against the sides of the sweatshirt, the rhythm comforting him slightly, soothing his breathing into a slow, steady pace. Slowly allowing his mind to drift, and his legs to take him wherever they went, quickly focusing on his course load, Tristan groaned at the prospect of taking Latin, Psychology, Game Theory, Calculus and Advanced Physics. 

Feeling his calf muscle tighten forty minutes later, Tristan slowed his run into a slight jog, making sure to stretch the muscle lightly with each step, letting it cool down and relax as he turned in the direction of his dorm, knowing he was close by, the anxiousness of getting back to his dorm and unpacking beginning to make him restless.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I likely do not own. Although I do on occasion toy with storylines and characters, I will give credit where credit is due.  
> Michaelover101 has contributed ideas throughout this story, and many others, but has not done any direct writing for it.

“I’ve got Balinese,” Lorelai said as she walked back in to Rory and Paris’ dorm was located. “Where does Bali go?” she said, waving the paper bag around.

“We’re still putting everything in geographic order,” Paris said, waving her fork in front of her face as she stared at the mass of food in front of them. “East to west.”

“That’s the system. Where is Bali?” Lorelai asked, moving her hands underneath the bag in an attempt to get a better grip.

“Indonesia,” Rory said, shoving some more food in her mouth as she glanced at Paris.

“Is Indonesia east or west of the Philippines?” Paris asked, waving her fork at both of the girls.

“East,” Tanna said with certainty.

“No, west.”

“Near Singapore? We’ve got Singapore here somewhere,” Lorelai said, jumping between the girls’ conversation before it turned into a small argument.

“Find Sri Lanka, it’s a bit over from that,” Tanna said, hitting herself in the chin with her chopsticks.

“But there’s no Sri Lankan food…”

“Just put it by Vietnam,” Rory suggested.

“Is Vietnam east or west of the Philippines?” Paris asked, her face masked in confusion.

“Ooh, boy, you guys really need to go to college,” Lorelai said, setting the paper bag of food down on the table they’d set up.

“We ordered too much food,” Rory said, chewing the last bit of food that was in her mouth before putting in more.

“Hello, the point. We need a wide cross section for our local takeout test,” Lorelai said, moving some of the food bags off of a chair and sitting down.

“I still smell glue from your glue gun.”

“You’re rich, you know that?”

“What is this? You've eaten Indian food, yet I see nothing about Indian food on the chart,” Lorelai said, holding a giant art notebook up and moving it towards the girls.

“We’ll get to it,” Rory said.

“The whole point of getting everything within delivery distance is so we can judge the quality of food, speed of service, cuteness of delivery guys on a scale of one to ten. We cannot work from memory on this,” Lorelai scolded, the girls ignoring her as the phone rang, trying to figure out where they had last left it.

“Where’s the phone?” Rory asked, her eyes glancing at Tanna and Paris for a moment before Paris pointed at some of the take out boxes.

“Uh, under Mexico.”

“I bet it’s the pizza. Come help,” Lorelai said, waving her daughter towards the door.

“Mmm… okay,” she said before quickly jumping up.

~_~_~

“Hello, eight and a half,” Lorelai said, pulling the pen away from the delivery man’s ear, a gleeful smile on her face as he looked confused.

“I’m sorry?” he said, glancing over at Rory for an explanation. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly, glaring over at her mother. “We just need to sign for the credit card?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, handing them the small clipboard.

“Thanks!” Lorelai said, pulling a chunk of the pizzas away from the boy, Rory quietly grabbing the rest.

“We’re _four_ people and we ordered for like four hundred.”

“So, what you’re saying is you wanna crank it up? You wanna set it off?” Lorelai said, smiling as Rory opened the door. “You wanna put a match to the keg and burn this mofo down?”

“I’m just saying it’s a lot of food.”

“Attention Durfee girls!”

“Mom!” Rory said, glaring at her mother.

“Food, and tons of it in suite five. Bring your appetites, bring your opinions, and, uh, hey, someone bring some music,” Lorelai said, faltering for a moment before bouncing back again, “but if it’s Evanescence, you will be severely mocked. Enter, rejoice and come in,” she continued, some of the girls entering the room and pulling pizzas from Rory and Lorelai, Lorelai raising her eyebrows at Rory’s pained expression.

~_~_~

“Oh, hey ice cream man,” Lorelai said, grabbing the pen and bag of ice cream.

“Hey…”

“Here you go,” Lorelai said, smiling at the man.

“Thanks, have a nice night,” he said, turning to leave the building.

“You too,” Lorelai said, walking back towards the dorm, spinning around when she remembered something. “OH! Um, do me a favor? Count to ten before you leave.”

“Sure…” he said skeptically, ruffling his dark brown hair in confusion.

“Thanks,” Lorelai said, smiling at him before rushing back into the door, tossing the ice cream on the counter. “Hey! Rate him, rate him!” Lorelai said, pointing towards the window as several of the teenage girls rushed over to the window.

Lorelai walked over to Rory, who was sitting off to the side of the group, tossing her one of the pints of ice cream. “Hey, where does ice cream stand on our organization system?”

“The organizational system broke down about an hour ago,” Rory said, a smug grin on her face.

“Germany fell on China,” Tanna said from next to Rory.

“Well, that’s Germany for ya. Okay, we’re out of Chinese completely, so we know Chinese is popular. Freddy’s Happy Tokyo Takeout is a bust. That’s the consensus so let’s lose the Freddy’s menus,” Lorelai said, pulling one of the folded pieces of paper away from the mantel. “although Ang the delivery guy was a solid nine. If you’re gonna go to Baja Bill’s you must get the cheese quesadilla, and ask for Stan or Tommy. If you don’t get Stan or Tommy, go to Paco’s Tacos. The delivery guys are butt ugly, but the food is better,” she said, smiling at the two girls, Tanna staring at her in surprise. “Look at all these girls together in one room, having fun. We should dance and sing a Motown song into our hairbrush,” Lorelai said, getting excited before bouncing away towards the bathroom, the girls looking skeptically in her direction as Paris approached the pair.

“So… do you like you’re adoptive parents?” Paris asked, trying to be neutral.

“Yeah…”

“I think it’s good to be adopted. If you get sick of them, you just dump this set and go find the originals,” Paris sprouted, Rory giving her a warning glare as she continued to talk. 

When Paris paused, the trio watched as a girl walked up to the group, smoothing the back of her jeans, “This is awesome.”

“Thanks,” Rory said quietly, a small smile on her face at the compliment.

“Who did all this?”

“The woman with the hairbrush,” Rory said, pointing in the direction of her mother who was wielding a microphone in the form of a hairbrush.

“Uh, you guys, com on, I know it’s cheese, but just a couple bars,” Lorelai said, catching a couple of the girl’s attention in the process of waving the brush around. “ _You Can’t Hurry Love_? Someone’s gotta do it, it doesn’t have to be on key,” she coaxed, a smile on her face when one of the blondes approached her, pulling the hair brush out of her hand.

“I’m just going to go and hide this now,” the blonde said, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door, all the while carrying the hairbrush with her while Lorelai had a stunned, saddened look on her face.

~

**Two Weeks Later**

“Yes, Mom, I’m _sure_ that I don’t need special curtains for my room,” Rory said, walking across the campus with coffee and her book bag in tow. Sighing, she listened as her mother continued to talk, excited about some magazine that had come in the mail the previous day and had things that were ‘perfect’ for a young girl’s dorm room.

“Are you sure, Rory, because they’re purple and cute, and they have flowers on them! I remember you always wanted curtains like that before!”

“I was seven, Mom,” Rory said laughing.

“They’ll go with your rug,” she coaxed.

“And the beanbag, you can’t forget the beanbag, that thing is more comfortable than I thought it would be,” Rory said, slipping between a group of people in the middle of the quad talking, careful not to brush against any of them.

“Now, how would I forget that beanbag, I might have gotten a matching one for my office.”

“Michel made you return it, remember?”

“Damn… that man did,” Lorelai said, chuckling as she settled into the empty living room, pulling a light blanket over her legs.

“I miss you, Mom,” Rory whispered, pausing to sit down at one of the many benches around the campus.

“I know, kid, I know,” Lorelai said, her voice dropping an octave as she tried to keep it from cracking. “I’ll see you at Friday Night Dinner though, right?”

“That’s what I hear, and I’m coming home with you afterwards, right?”

“Why yes, yes you are. The kitchen table is even cleaned off for you, _and_ your desk,” Lorelai joked.

“Well, that’s always good, although I’m slightly concerned as to what you might have been doing with my desk that got it dirty in the first place…” Rory said, grinning as she stood up and looked around again to get her surroundings right.

“Well… you see,” Lorelai started, a wicked tone clear in her speech.

“NO! I do not want to know,” Rory said, cutting her mother’s words off. 

“Spoil sport,” she said, pouting.

“Either way, I have to get over to my class, or else I’m not going to get my seat,” Rory said, pulling her shoulder strap back up her shoulder. 

“But we haven’t discussed the bed sheets that I found!”

“Bye, Mom! I’ll see you this weekend,” Rory said, quickly ending the call with Lorelai before she could convince her to stay on the line.

Shifting the coffee into her other hand, Rory pushed the cover of her bag over, slipping her cell phone into one of the small pockets inside. Digging through her bag, Rory turned the corner into the building that held her classroom, one of the few classes that she was sure that she was going to stay with during her first term at Yale. Pulling the correct notebook out, Rory sighed, and paused her steps, flipping through the pages for a moment before groaning and quickly spinning around, walking into the person behind her.

“Woh, there, watch out,” a male voice said, Rory’s eyes snapping up and looking at the chest she ran into, her eyes following the blue-striped t-shirt upward to the face. “Rory?” the voice asked, surprise lacing his tone as Rory’s eyes finally reached the face, only for her mouth to drop open.

“Tristan, _what_ are you doing at my college?” Rory said, panic beginning to set into her stomach and working its way upward.

“I am trying to get to my literature class, but apparently getting run into by gorgeous girls is more on the agenda than classes,” Tristan said, the smirk that he had used for years at Chilton easily falling back onto his face for the first time in years, causing Rory to groan.

“Figures that _you_ of all people would go to Yale and be the only one to have changed, I have to go get notes for my class,” Rory said, her irritation seeping through, ducking out of Tristan’s way and walking quickly away from him, leaving it to be his turn to stare at her with mouth wide open.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Initium Incipere is Latin for New Beginning, signifying the fact that in order for Rory and Tristan to really start anew, that they’ll need a brand new beginning, something to start fresh on; away from Chilton, Hartford, and the friends that they both used to have. Rory is slowly changing, and we saw that in season three, but she and her mother went to Europe for the summer, effectively allowing Rory to leave Jess in the dust and have Dean move on and eventually end up getting married.  
>  In my mind, what I saw between Tristan and Rory, was stronger than what she had with Dean, Jess, or Logan, and it wouldn’t have just been purely physical like I partially feel it was when it came to Logan. I desperately wanted Tristan to make another appearance in the series so we would know what he was like now, after he finished military school and graduated; but alas, the writers didn’t think that it was something that could happen; luckily, we authors have much to work with when it comes to Tristan, a clean slate with a background that has some major appeal to any woman.  
>  This story is going to be about the starting of a new life for Rory and learning to incorporate this new man that has appeared in her life and has begun to enchant her like he managed to while they were in high school, but in a completely different way. The Tristan that I am creating has learned things that no teenager should have had to learn, experienced abandonment like he shouldn’t have dealt with since he does have parents; but it has made him realize his mistakes and grow up an extraordinary amount.   
>  I have been leery of doing a Rory/Tristan story for many years, even just for my own enjoyment and not posting it just because of the ramifications that it could cause with myself. But, after becoming more sure of myself and who I am, along with a little help from the amazing author Michaelover101 I’ve finally caved in and decided to try my hand on the two characters.  
>  This is dedicated to Jordan and Justin, after many hours of talking to the two of you, you are the examples that I am using for Tristan; kind, caring, extraordinarily annoying, and constantly stepping over the line knowingly. Although you will likely never read this (they aren’t Gilmore Girls fans), take some comfort in the fact that I care about both of you, as aggravating as you two can be.


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